


In the Name of Honour, In The Name of Love

by onesmoluke



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Stiles, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is Stiles Stilinski's Anchor, Derek Hale is a Softie, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Good Alpha Derek Hale, Good Parent Melissa McCall, Honour, Idiots in Love, Kate Argent Dies, Kidnapping, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Warning: Kate Argent, Wolfsbane Poisoning, alternating pov, as she should, broken boys in love, kneecapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onesmoluke/pseuds/onesmoluke
Summary: His soul drew Derek in, called to him.Something inside Derek ached to follow its trail.Come find me. Make me yours, it seemed to say.He felt a howl build in his belly, the skin beneath his fur buzzed with something.The roar he let out had the earth quaking beneath his paws.He barely had time to bring himself out of his mind before his wolf was taking off, deaf to the shouts of the pack and Scott behind him.He had to find Stiles.---------------------------------------I love you, and I have loved you for a long fucking time.The words echoed in Stiles' head and as much as he didn't want to believe them, he thought back to Derek blushing after their time in the warehouse and how completely he had protected him. How he'd turned up before the pack. And he thought back to how scared the Alpha had been to let anyone in. And it was a little easier to believe that the reason he'd never let Stiles close to him was not because he hated him, but because he was scared of letting his guard down.THIS FIC IS COMPLETED
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 20
Kudos: 317
Collections: Quote Prompt Memes





	1. The Course of True Love

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Izcana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izcana/pseuds/Izcana) in the [quoteonlyprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/quoteonlyprompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> "I love the name of honour more than I fear death." - Julius Caeser, by William Shakespeare
> 
> You do not have to use that quote in your writing but please include it in the notes/summary. Thanks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has been captured by Kate and Derek and the pack decide how to rescue him.
> 
> This chapter's title is from the quote "The course of true love never did run smooth" - A Midsummer Night's Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers :)
> 
> The chapter titles will be references to Shakespeare because the prompt was a quote from our dear old flaming homosexual himself <3

The sound of the pack arguing was ringing in Derek's ears, but he couldn't bring himself to quiet them. He was sat at the head of the dining table in the loft, his mind too full of conflicting thoughts and hopelessness. He was stuck staring at the note still in his palm.

_Your precious Alpha at the old warehouse by sundown or the human dies._

It just didn't end. The last time he'd seen Kate, he'd put his claws through her neck and yet, her obnoxiously delicate scrawl was instantly recognisable. The sight of it had nearly thrown him into a panic attack. The memories that he'd kept tight behind a barrier threatened to unleash in his mind like a dam. Those memories were ones he only let out in the safety and silence of the loft at night to quietly mourn all he'd lost. And now he was about to lose everything all over again.

The rising buzz in his ears had thankfully plateaued at a low hum of _fuckfuckfuckfuck,_ as though something in him was holding him back, reminding him of his mother's old saying.

_An Alpha's first duty is to the pack, then to themselves._

He could not be selfish about this. For the moment, that thought was the only thing keeping him from going feral.

How could he stay calm?

Kate had _Stiles_.

Derek wasn't sure just when the boy had weaseled his way under Derek's skin, but the brunet's stubbornness was rivalled only by his own. There was only so much time Derek could spend ignoring the way he actively listened for Stiles' frantic heartbeat in a room or instantly calmed when that scent of cinnamon and ozone flooded his nose.

He still fought against that annoying persistent flutter in his chest that appeared whenever the lanky teen stumbled into the loft - his wolf was often like a puppy whining to be let out around Stiles. He knew it was only a matter of time before he caved and did something stupid like professed his undying, undeserving love. So until then, he did his best to keep the wolf back - which, as an unfortunate side-effect, oftentimes led to him being extra surly around Stiles.

Derek had been sure it would push the Spark away. But of course, Stiles just took it all in his stride. _C'mon Sourwolf, you and I both know you're a real teddy bear under all that grouch._

But regardless of what Derek tried to force himself not to feel for the teen, he couldn't deny the fact that losing Stiles would break him. But not only him, the pack too.

It seemed Stiles was the sticky stuff that kept this damaged group of individuals from spiralling out of control. Derek didn't want to think about what he would do without him.

Now that bitch had taken him. The one thing that had truly mattered to Derek since he'd lost his family.

He let out a quiet bitter chuckle as the shouting got steadily louder.

He supposed it was only apt for things to come full circle. Good things didn't happen to Derek. It just wasn't how his life worked. He'd killed his first girlfriend, gotten his family burned alive and now, Stiles would be gone too unless Derek turned himself in. It was kind of poetic in a twisted sort of way.

He thought that, at least in death, he'd be with his family.

He stood abruptly from his chair and the grating noise had the rest of the pack cutting off to look helplessly at Derek. But he had no comfort to give them. This had to be done.

_An Alpha's first duty is to the pack, then to himself._

"I'm turning myself over to her," he grunted, eyes fixed on the door so he wouldn't see their reactions. He still couldn't say her name out loud, hadn't since that night when he'd kicked, screamed and fought to get to his family as their dying screams filled the night. He closed his eyes against the memories.

The loft was eerily silent after his decision, so Derek eventually chanced a glance at Isaac. He was the only one that might understand. The boy was grimacing at him, understanding and pain flickering over his face.

"Fine, I'll call bullshit," came a snarky voice, and Derek felt his eyes flash red on reflex.

"Excuse me?" he asked, eyebrow raised firmly as he turned to face the blonde who had just spoken.

"Forget it," Erica retorted angrily, rage simmering in her beta blue eyes. "We just lost Stiles and your solution is to turn yourself in so we lose both of you? Are you insane?"

"Erica," he warned sharply, flashing his eyes at her disobedience.

"-No! You can't just Alpha-bully us into this. We don't want to lose you Derek," she insisted, turning to Boyd to back her up.

The boy clenched his jaw and turned to Derek, nodding once in agreement.

Isaac then piped up. "Maybe we don't have a choice. We all know we'd love nothing more than to tear that bitch multiple new ones, but we can't do that until we know Stiles is safe," he reasoned quietly.

"You can't seriously be on board with this, Scarf Boy," Erica spat at him and Derek growled a warning at her.

"Stiles is safe," came a voice from the far end of the table and Derek startled as he remembered Scott's presence for the first time. The rest of the McCall pack hadn't made an appearance - relations were tenuous since Stiles had joined the Hale pack after the Nogitsune. At the time it had made sense. Stiles had needed stability, safety, people he could trust to make sure he didn't wake up Dark again. "People he hadn't hurt yet, at least not as much" was what Stiles had confessed to him in the dark one night. Derek still thought about that. Wished he'd done more than sat there in silence, staring at the boy because he _understood_. He'd wanted to say as much. To say he wished they didn't understand and then pull the Spark into a hug. But he hadn't.

Then again, the only member of the McCall pack who truly would have cared was Lydia and she had moved out of Beacon Hills as fast as her Jimmy Choos could carry her once they'd graduated. Derek hated the rest of Stiles' old pack sometimes for their ungratefulness.

Stiles was always there. Always reliable, and he never backed down. Even before he'd unlocked his Spark, his courage never once wavered. It was something Derek had always admired about him from afar. And now when Stiles needed them the most? They didn't return the favour.

Scott's voice brought him back to the present and he listened in, trying to pretend his brain wasn't setting itself on fire in fury and pain.

"-e has his Spark and he's not gonna let that bitch win," the young Alpha was saying. Despite his confidence, Derek could smell the fear radiating off of him and permeating the air around them.

"Stiles still doesn't have control over his Spark though, we don't know that he can defend himself," Boyd pointed out. The man rarely spoke, so when he did, everyone listened.

"Well, either way, Kate has to keep him alive for us to do the swap," Scott countered, wincing when Derek tensed reflexively at the sound of her name.

"Does she? She never said it was a swap. She's got leverage, she won't give that up," said Isaac. "It's unlikely we'll see Stiles alive again unless Derek turns himself in and even then, who's to say she'll bring Stiles to the warehouse when Derek turns up?"

"It's an ambush," he finished, quiet enough that a human wouldn't have caught it, but the noticeable sink in the mood of the room said that they'd all heard him.

"Alright, take a half hour to freshen up and we'll come back together to make a plan," Derek grunted, dismissing them as he headed for the door.

No-one asked where he was going. He often disappeared to run miles around the preserve when things got too overwhelming. He hoped they'd assume that was his intention.

He reached for his leather jacket on the hook by the door and shrugged it on. As he toed on his boots, he tried to push the anxiety from his mind that concocted gruesome images of Kate torturing Stiles. He knew Kate well enough to know she wouldn't kill Stiles until she had Derek there to watch it happen. She'd be unable to resist finally destroying the last of his soul. Still, a sickening reel of ways she could be hurting Stiles in the mean time was playing in his head and the thoughts made him want to jump out of his skin.

He swung open the door and made his way to the Camaro, skin prickling with anticipation and the wolf pacing anxiously in the back of his mind.

There was no time to waste planning. Sundown was fast approaching. Derek knew he had to find Kate before she hurt Stiles. What happened after that was anyone's game.

Knowing her, she planned to either kill them off here or take Derek and Stiles with her so she could carry out a cross-continent killing spree after leaving the rest of their pack dead. He knew couldn't let that happen, so he'd go alone.

At least this way he might be the only casualty. He'd find a way to get Stiles to safety. Any other logic was hard-pressed for space in his mind when sheer panic filled it with the screams of his dying family. Only now those screams were joined by Stiles'. He couldn't lose him.

He pulled himself into the front seat of the Camaro and took a moment to rest his head against the steering wheel as he gripped it tightly, claws digging into leather. He fought a whimper and shut his eyes, slowly counting to ten to shove the panic from his mind.

"You're going to turn yourself in, aren't you?"

The voice startled him enough that he was baring his fangs and flashing his eyes in its direction before he took in Isaac sitting in the back seat.

The boy only raised an eyebrow and Derek took a few minutes to calm his breathing. Isaac waited.

"Well, are you?"

Derek cleared his throat.

"Yes."

"Cool, I'm coming with you," said the beta, pushing past Derek to climb into the passenger seat beside him. Derek was too caught off guard to grump about the muddy footprints he left on the divider, but to be fair, a little dirt was the least of Derek's concerns at that moment.

"W- , no you're not," Derek informed him when he'd recovered.

The curly-haired Beta just looked out the window, pretending not to hear him as a small smile tugged at his lips. The sound of the Camaro's doors opening cut Derek off from growling at him.

"Get in losers, we're going bitch-slaying," came Erica's snarky voice, and Derek turned to see the rest of the pack joining them, though Boyd looked thoroughly uncomfortable with the lack of leg-space in the back of the car.

Derek looked at Scott who only smiled sheepishly at him and shrugged before putting on his seatbelt.

"You can't come with me," Derek insisted, though it seemed to fall on deaf ears as the Betas started making a plan and Scott stared out of the window, worry and fear filling his scent.

"Yes we can, Alpha mine," Erica replied glibly.

Derek couldn't help the growl that escaped him then. "Do you think this is a joke?" he demanded, effectively silencing the other Betas.

Before anyone could reply, Derek kept going. "Stiles has been captured, by a Hunter. This isn't some training session, this is the real deal. You could die," he said firmly.

"We could have died when we took the bite, Derek. Stiles is pack. We're all going," said Boyd quietly, staring at him with a kind of determination that had Derek's resolve crumbling a little.

"Yeah," added Erica. "Batman isn't alone. He's a spaz, but he's family. So you're not leaving us behind."

Derek only sighed, though something in him preened at their verbal acceptance of the brunet. It was stupid, the others clearly accepted Stiles as pack from all the pack movie nights and how they all seemed to gravitate towards the Spark in a fight. Still, he packed it away to deal with later.

Beside him, Isaac was looking at him expectantly and Derek felt the last of his reluctance melt away. Maybe this time he could save everyone. Hope was a dangerous thing, but it sparked a little in his chest.

"Can we get going now, please?" asked Scott from the back, somewhat muffled from how closely packed the three weres were in the back.

"Fine," Derek grumbled, turning on the ignition and easing the Camaro out of the drive.

The warehouse Kate had mentioned in her ransom note was close by, and sunset wasn't for another few hours. Derek wasn't entirely sure what his plan had been because if he'd turned up at the warehouse early, it was likely that nobody would be there. Though the fact that they were on the road put his wolf at ease. He never did well at the "sitting, waiting and planning" thing.

"We know she won't be keeping Stiles at the warehouse. She'll probably try to kill you all and then capture me so she can kill me slower," he grimaced, hating the words that were leaving his mouth.

The others took a moment to process that.

"Do we know where she would hide him?" asked Isaac.

Derek supposed the only person who might know was Argent, but again, he wasn't on great terms with the man.

"I still think the only thing we can do is turn me in," he admitted, wincing at the protests from the rest of the pack.

"Wait, hear me out." He paused, waiting for the others to quiet down.

"If we let Kate take me, she'll probably knock me out and take me to where she's keeping Stiles. If you all stay at a distance and follow, you'll be able to break us out."

"But won't she know we're following her? You turning up alone would be a little suspicious," Scott pointed out.

"Not if you stick to the forest. And, no, she thinks I'm broken enough to walk into it without backup if only so I don't put anyone else at risk," he answered. He pointedly ignored the fact that he had indeed been planning on going alone before his Betas had sabotaged him.

He glanced in the rear-view mirror to look at them.

"You have a bond with me as my Betas, you'll be able to follow it and find me wherever I am. You only have to tap into it. Scott can follow you," he said.

"Wait, you're saying we have like a...werewolf GPS?"

Derek ignored Isaac in favour of rolling his eyes.

"Not exactly, but if you want to say it like that, fine." _Snobwolf_ , said Stiles' taunting voice in his head. Derek ignored him.

"The bond is something you all feel. You just might not notice it yet."

"But, wait. If they have a bond with you, don't they have a bond with Stiles? Can't we use that to find him instead of turning you in?" asked Scott.

Derek considered this.

"It's different for an emissary. Stiles isn't a werewolf, the bond we have with him would be different. I don't know how to identify it, or if the bond is just between me and him or if the whole pack can feel it," Derek reasoned. "It's not that I can't feel him, I can feel a thread, I just don't know how to isolate it."

Scott hummed in understanding.

"Why don't we ask the creepy witch doctor?" said Isaac.

It took Derek a second to realise who he was talking about. Deaton.

The groans from the other Betas echoed the silent reluctance in Derek's own mind. He respected Deaton, his mother had raised him to never get on the wrong side of a druid. Not to mention the close ties the veterinarian already had with Derek's family.

But the guy was so cryptic he gave Yoda a run for his money.

Derek was quietly grateful he hadn't said that out loud, because if the news had gotten to Stiles that Derek had made a Star Wars reference, Derek would never have heard the end of it. He supposed it was yet another by-product of Stiles burrowing into Derek's heart. Though the treacherous thing only buzzed happily in his chest at the thought.

 _You're such a Softiewolf. Duh, you love it_ , came Stiles' teasing voice in his mind. And, yeah. Maybe he did.

"Alright then, let's go to Deaton," he said, silently glad that they at least had a destination now.

When they arrived, Derek watched the Betas and Scott stumble out of the car, Boyd grimacing at the stretch while Scott just distractedly toed at the ground. Erica seemed to have no shortage of energy, bounding around Boyd while he looked on fondly. That development was again, something that had both surprised and not surprised Derek. They were good for each other. And their relationship made Derek happy.

Definitely not because their polar opposite personalities sort of reminded him of himself and Stiles, no of course not.

He fought the sudden blush that rose to his cheeks and watched the sun sink even lower in the sky. Time was ticking.

He walked inside the clinic, cautiously looking around to see if the druid was in and sighed with relief when he saw the man walk in to the operating room.

"Ah, Derek. What can I do for you?" Deaton asked, eyes flicking to take in the rest of the pack. He spared Scott a quick nod when the young Alpha waved at him and brought his attention back to Derek.

"It's her. She's back. And she took Stiles," he said quickly, hoping Deaton would understand without him having to explain much further.

The druid's face grew solemn.

"So it is as I feared," he murmured.

"What?" Derek demanded.

Deaton glanced at him as though suddenly remembering he was there. The Druid then shook his head.

"Why have you come to me?" the man asked.

Derek cursed him silently. Why couldn't he just answer the question?

"We need to find where she's keeping him. Preferably without me having to turn myself in."

The vet nodded in understanding. "Yes, that would be ideal."

He paused, thinking for a moment.

"You want to know how to isolate the Alpha-emissary bond," he guessed.

"How the fuck-" Isaac started to whisper behind him, but cut himself off with a yelp when Erica stomped on his foot.

"Yes," answered Derek, foot tapping absently against the ground as he grew more restless.

Deaton looked at him knowingly. "You'll have to be more centred to do that, Mister Hale," he said.

Derek glared at him.

"Just tell me how to do it."

"I don't need to. You already share a bond with him that no-one else does. And I think you know that," the vet said.

Again with the cryptic answers.

"We don't have time to decode whatever mysterious clues you give us, Deaton. How do we find Stiles?" Scott cut in.

Derek mulled over what Deaton had told him. Did he mean the Alpha-emissary bond? Because then, yes, of course he knew that.

"Not just that, Derek," Deaton said to him, and Derek distantly wondered if the man really could read minds. It had him shifting uncomfortably where he stood.

"What else is there?" he asked hesitantly, though it felt like something inside him already knew.

"You haven't felt it?" the vet returned, surprise lighting his features.

"Haven't felt what ?" he demanded, patience fraying.

"Close your eyes and focus," Deaton instructed.

Derek clenched his jaw, but complied without any verbal protest. They were wasting time.

"Now search for him. You know his thread will stand out from the rest, you know what you're looking for," he murmured.

He delved deeper, black fading to darker shadow as he searched within himself. The wolf prowled at the door and he felt his fangs drop and his claws sharpen as he beta shifted.

"You're almost there. Locate those threads, you know the ones."

This, Derek had done before. Finding the pack bonds deep within his soul was something he'd been taught at a young age by his mother.

Somewhere in the dark, he could see three shining thread-like structures, leading off into the pitch. All thrummed with life and feelings that Derek could tap into if he wanted - worry, fear and confusion emanated from all three.

But where was Stiles' thread?

"Good. But you know you won't find him there," Deaton informed him.

So all that had been for nothing. He bit back the sarcastic retort and sighed, digging deeper. There was nothing there, where was he supposed to be looking?

"The young Spark is tied deeper to you than you think, closer. Find your centre, your core."

Derek searched again for the wolf, shuddered as he merged with it and felt himself start to shift fully, falling to all fours as his bones rearranged themselves inside him. He felt wonder course through the pack bonds.

His wolf shone bright in his mind, brighter than the pack, it was part of his being. Fused with the earthy black that represented his human side, two part of a whole. Would he really find Stiles here?

It blended in so well, he almost missed it. But he noticed something that felt a little foreign, a lot safe. A little blanket of red and amber that covered the earthy green and brown of his soul's core. It swaddled his senses, calmed his mind. Home.

Stiles.

His soul drew Derek in, called to him. Something inside Derek ached to follow its trail. _Come find me. Make me yours_ , it seemed to say.

He felt a howl build in his belly, the skin beneath his fur buzzed with _something_.

The roar he let out had the earth quaking beneath his paws.

He barely had time to bring himself out of his mind before his wolf was taking off, deaf to the shouts of the pack and Scott behind him.

He had to find Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this is my first fic for this fandom, which, wow, why haven't I written for this fandom before? But oh well.
> 
> This was initially a oneshot, but uh...it sorta ran away from me, so now it's a three-chapter fic.
> 
> The second chapter is basically written and I'm almost done with the third so the updates shouldn't be too slow :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this, the prompt was really awesome.
> 
> If you find any mistakes, they're all mine, but please do let me know in the comments, I'm always trying to improve my writing <3


	2. Vengeance Is In My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' time as a captive and Derek coming to the rescue
> 
> Poisoning and some healing both emotional and physical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, an update :)
> 
> Hope y'all had a nice Christmas :)
> 
> Never quite sat right with me how much they glossed over Derek's trauma and Stiles' PTSD.
> 
> enjoy our broken boys starting to fix each other.
> 
> BTW the title is a part of a quote from Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus, just to keep with our theme ;)

Stiles tapped a rhythm against the back of the rusted chair absentmindedly where he was bound towards the back of the basement. The place Bitchface (a name he'd come to affectionately call her by) had brought him to was pretty ugly-looking. Definitely the scene of one or two child slaughters. He wouldn't be entirely surprised if Kate had carried them out herself. The only light in the room was an old flickering LED light that hung precariously above his head.

He was in a cage and his hands were bound with zip-ties behind his back. He still had his wolfsbane bullets in the pocket of his jeans, though he'd been terrified Kate would find them. She was literally the worst person Stiles could have given them up to, so he was glad she hadn't caught the weird looking lumps in his pants. His feet were tied with rope to the chair legs so it meant Stiles couldn't exactly move much. Which by the way was absolute hell on his ADHD because c'mon how did anyone expect Stiles to sit still while being held hostage? He could barely sit still during target practice. Ironically, that was a "fun for all the family" training activity Derek made the pack do to make sure they weren't totally useless in the event of a fight.

_Yeah, well jokes on you Sourwolf, I still managed to get kidnapped._

Though by this point, Stiles was used to it. He'd been possessed by a thousand-year old Demon before. Being abducted by a hunter? That's called a Tuesday.

But something about this version of Kate scared him.

One thing the Nogitsune had left behind, was an ability to recognise darkness in other beings, a magnetic force that tugged at Stiles as though the evil that lingered could sense one of its kind. And looking at Kate, Stiles felt that wrenching tug. Maybe if the Nogitsune were still using him, it would have stopped in its footsteps, lingered at the precipice of this dangerous malevolence and smiled that creaking, rotten grin.

_Like calls to like._

Stiles couldn't exactly lay a finger on it, but there was that knowledge tugging at the strings of his soul. Something was different about Kate, wrong.

That being said, his fear of her was massively outweighed by the fury he held in his heart. A small black stain he imagined looked not unlike the spot the Nogitsune had left behind, but it was just for her.

She'd killed Derek's family. Burned them alive. And lived.

It made Stiles wanna scream.

She didn't wait to see the mess she'd left behind. The wounded shards of Derek's soul. Stiles himself had only seen glimpses, but it was enough to make him wish he had control over his Spark so he could ensure she got what was coming to her. Seeing how broken Derek was broke Stiles sometimes. His heart squeezed tight in his chest every time Derek said _I'm fine Stiles_ or _stop bothering me_. He knew, even more now after the Nogitsune, that Derek Hale was full of shit when he said that. Because now Stiles said the exact same things to his pack. But still, the pain he felt for Derek was something he'd never really felt for another person before.

He didn't think it was the fact that he was definitely in love with the Alpha, because who wouldn't fall for Derek Hale?

It felt more like pain for someone whom life had chewed up, spit out and trammelled into the ground three ways from Sunday. The pain of knowing that that someone still somehow had honour and love in his heart. Honour didn't really mean a lot to Stiles, but he could tell it meant a lot to Derek and seeing him keep it always made Stiles so incredibly proud of him. If _he'd_ lost his whole family in one night and the bitch responsible wasn't even dead? He didn't know who he would become, but he knew that Derek was so brave and so strong for staying halfway sane. He just wished the man didn't do it alone.

Though at the same time, this pain he felt for Derek wasn't like the pain he felt for Scott, for Isaac, the rest of the pack. Sure, in their own ways, life had fucked them over almost if not just as badly. But the pain Stiles felt when he saw Derek hurting was all-encompassing. He felt helpless, useless more often than not, because he didn't know how to be there for him. Whenever he even opened his mouth, Derek was all growls and murderous eyebrows.

Stiles knew rationally that the Alpha didn't hate him, otherwise he would've never bothered to save him all those times. But still, the feeling lingered.

He wondered distantly if the pack would even come for him. If Derek wouldn't shrug and say "Good riddance" and leave it at that. Did they even know he was missing? He wasn't sure.

The Nogitsune had left Stiles a big gaping mess, like the Void had never really gone away. Now, most of the time, he just felt hollow. He put a brave face and a laughing self-deprecating attitude around the pack, if only so they would stop looking at him with all that pity. He didn't want them knowing that he still woke up screaming, tears running down his face as he wrenched open the covers and held shaking hands up to the dim moonlight, desperately counting and recounting his fingers. He'd put them through enough. And he'd already done enough damage when he'd killed Allison. It was only right that he was next.

_No._

_Shut up Stiles_ , he chided himself silently. _This is what Bitchface wants._

The woman was currently leering at him through the bars of his makeshift cell, dragging a rusty pipe across the floor so it made a godawful screeching sound. Every so often, she would take a swing at the bars between them, the clang always managed to startle him, despite his best efforts. She was watching him with a taunting smile and slightly crazed eyes, though she was otherwise silent. The only sound in the place the _drip drip drip_ of something pooling on the floor of the basement. Stiles hoped it was water.

He knew she was waiting for him to crack. She just didn't know Stiles had cracked a long time ago. He was prepared for the fact that the pack might not come. He'd been prepared to die since the Void. Obviously living would be preferred, but he wasn't exactly an integral part of anyone's life - apart from maybe his dad's.

Derek probably hated him, the other Betas only really tolerated him. His relationship with Scott had frayed so badly since Allison that Stiles hadn't really spoken to him since the whole ordeal had passed. Not that Scott really blamed him. But Stiles blamed himself.

Stiles may not have been guilty, but the blood that had been shed was on his hands. God, he missed Allison so much. And then he hated himself for missing her because it was all his fault.

It should have been him.

"Still think your little friends are coming to save you?" Kate spoke, perfectly pointed canines and pearly whites glinting at him in the dim light of the basement.

Stiles remained studiously silent, eyes fixed on the ground and he tried to hone in on that dripping sound so he could block her out.

"No-one's coming for you. No-one cares about skinny, defenceless Stiles," she taunted.

Her words stung, because he'd heard that same description leave Derek's mouth before. When the Nogitsune took over, the demon had shown him memories that belonged inside the minds of his friends. Some sick way of reinforcing that the demon had total control, could do just about anything to anyone if Stiles didn't co-operate. That it had his loved ones' minds in the claws of one hand. And it served as a two pronged sword because the demon only ever seemed to show him the memories of the pack talking about him. And it was never good things.

Stiles had been forced to watch each of them through their own eyes, caught snippets of conversations here and there.

But Stiles wasn't defenceless anymore. Somewhere beneath his skin ran a Spark that could roast this bitch like chestnuts on Christmas morning. He just couldn't tap into it.

 _What do I do, how can I use you?_ he implored desperately, speaking into his own mind like a madman as he tried to connect with his Spark. He, unsurprisingly, got nothing in return.

"What, cat got your tongue?" Kate sneered, then chuckled darkly like she'd said something funny.

Stiles ignored her - tried to tap into his Spark again, absently wishing he could see Derek at least one last time before this bitch killed the token human.

Suddenly, the light above him seemed to flicker a little more insistently.

_Hmm. Okay, I can work with that._

The clang of the pipe colliding with the cage sliced through his ears again, more force behind it now. The cage seemed to quake and Stiles' teeth rang in his mouth with the force of impact. He winced a little. So, Bitchface didn't like being ignored.

Stiles let his eyes go a little dark and he raised them to regard the woman in front of him, making sure to let all the hatred and promised retribution bleed into his expression. Part of him hated how easily he slipped back into the Nogitsune's costume, but the confidence it lent him was useful sometimes. It would take him a long while to get comfortable doing it. But sometimes being mistaken for weak had his Spark roaring within him. He was a part of something bigger, there was no weakness anymore. When Stiles used his Spark, he was...useful. An asset even.

Gone were the days when he faced an Alpha with only a metal bat between himself and certain death.

He relished in the small gasp that left Kate's lips when he looked at her. He wasn't a wolf, but he knew that uncertainty would be colouring her scent right now. He made a show of cracking the bones he could, looking for all the world like he was comfortable in the old, abandoned warehouse. He let out a sigh and put on his most bored expression, still trying beneath the surface to tap into that reservoir of power and electricity that crackled beneath his skin.

Kate seemed to lose a little confidence, and Stiles almost thought he'd made some headway. But then she was smirking at him, wrenching open the cell door and striding in with purpose, dragging that rusty pipe along the floor as she came.

Muscles flexing, she flicked it off the ground and twirled it easily in one hand, smirk turning dangerous as she looked at him expectantly.

She was stronger than she'd been before. This much Stiles knew. As he swallowed a gulp of fear, he thought back to when he'd last seen her. Derek had supposedly ripped out her throat, but other than a few scars, Kate seemed very much alive. Stiles had assumed her ugly looking father had saved her, but now...

 _Can someone turn just from claws in their neck?_ The question clanged through him as the distant memory echoed in his mind.

Kate had survived because now-

"You turned. You're a wolf?" he murmured in surprise.

She snarled a little and then her face was morphing. But it wasn't like anything Stiles had seen before. This looked more like...a wild cat?

Truly, nature knew no bounds for the fuckery that it had made of Stiles' relatively normal life pre-bite. Was a giant lizard man not enough? Now there were were-jaguars?

He tried again for his Spark, but the tell-tale flicker of the light above him didn't come. Whatever he'd been doing right before wasn't working anymore.

"Not quite," she said darkly, swinging that pipe dangerously past Stiles' knees again.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on her face further, because suddenly the whoosh of the pipe swinging through the air sounded a lot more purposeful and Stiles barely had a second to process what that meant before the pipe was shattering his kneecap.

The pain was unimaginable.

He jolted in his seat, a scream tearing from his chest as tears pricked his eyes. His vision whited out and distantly he registered something bleeding. His head felt woozy.

"You know, I was going to keep you unharmed until sweet Derek turned himself in, but you just had to play smart didn't you? First you ignore me, then you disrespect me. Now, you get punished," she said conversationally, the screech of the pipe against the floor had bile rising in Stiles' throat as he panted heavily. His leg was throbbing.

"Turned himself in?" he managed weakly.

 _C'mon Stiles, get it together. There is worse pain than physical pain._ He tried desperately to collect himself, to tune out the pain, but it hurt _so bad_.

"Oh yes, I offered to keep you alive until your precious Alpha delivers himself to me," she sneered.

So that cleared up the unknowns of whether the pack knew he was missing.

Silently, Stiles cursed, pain dulling his senses. Derek was enough of an idiot to go for the deal. The Alpha's sense of honour was really a force to be reckoned with. One that had been drilled into Derek since birth. But his whole _"I love the name of honour more than I fear death"_ thing was far too suicidal for Stiles' liking. If there was one thing Stiles was good at, it was saving Derek Hale. And he sure as fuck hadn't kept Derek alive for this long just for the asshole to turn himself in for Stiles.

He hoped against hope that the Betas had managed to talk some sense into him. Then he curled in on himself a little more for comfort at that thought with a sense of grim acceptance. Because if they had spoken to Derek, then no-one would come to the drop. And Stiles would be dead.

"Derek's not gonna do shit," he forced out, tears staining his cheeks as he gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Oh he's not? You really are as dumb as you look," she laughed mirthlessly.

Stiles hated how his heart skipped a hopeful beat at what she insinuated.

"What do you mean," he asked, eyeing the way she was swinging that pipe again.

"Hmm, or maybe you do know," Kate said absently.

"Your little wolf boy lo-"

Whatever she said was drowned out by an earth-shattering roar that shook the ground beneath him. Stiles stifled a shiver at the answering roar Kate let out. Something very human inside of him was begging him to run and hide, but he knew at least one of those roars was friendly.

 _Derek_.

A surge of _something_ went through Stiles and the light above him flickered once more.

The door burst open and a blur of darkness shot through and disappeared into the shadows. The low resonating growl that reverberated around them was the only sign that Derek was even there.

Kate cut the ties at Stiles' feet, wrestling him out of his chair by the scruff of his faded red hoodie and Stiles let out a pained shout at the pressure it put on his knee. The bone felt worryingly out of place and he would have collapsed if Kate hadn't been forcing him upright.

The growl from the shadows turned into a snarl at the sound and Stiles registered the clack of claws on coarse ground as the wolf prowled towards them.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, sweetie," Kate taunted, and Stiles hated the way Derek seemed to pause at her voice. He watched as the wolf shook itself out of it and continued out of the shadows.

"Now I'm afraid I can't have that," she clucked.

"Shift back, or I kill your precious mate."

Derek stopped in his tracks and looked as though he was considering the threat she posed, head tilted to one side as he sized her up.

 _Mate?_ Stiles thought distantly, though the pain in his leg took most of his attention. He really wanted to sit down.

Kate beta-shifted once more, skin turning midnight blue as her fangs dropped and she hissed a warning at Derek, claws sharp against Stiles' neck.

The wolf froze, and it seemed to take Derek a second to process the new sight before his wolf hung its head in defeat and retreated into the shadows, muscles rippling as it growled menacingly.

Seconds later, after the sickening sound of bones rearranging themselves inside Derek's body filled the air, the man himself emerged from the shadows, eyes burning Alpha red with fury. Hot, deadly and buck-ass naked.

If Stiles hadn't been two seconds from passing out he would definitely have taken the opportunity to appreciate the view, but as it was, the only things he felt were pain and fury. Derek looked severely uncomfortable, almost ashamed of his lack of clothing which was unusual for the Alpha who was normally comfortable in his own skin. His muscles were tensed all the way up to his shoulders that were bunched up around his ears. He looked like he was trying to hide, but didn't really have anything to hide with. It was something Stiles had never seen Derek, of all people, do before, and he just knew it was because of Kate. It made him sick to think of what Kate had done to Derek for him to fear being naked around her.

"Hmm, it really is a shame I have to kill you sweetie, you always did serve me so well," she leered and Stiles bristled against her. Derek looked like he was going to be sick, muscles clenched and fists balled by his sides as he quivered. Stiles hoped it was anger.

"Don't fucking talk to him," he spat as best he could, then cursed when Kate claws pierced his skin in retribution.

"Stiles, shut up," Derek commanded, but the slight relaxation of his features into eyebrow expression #3 told Stiles he appreciated the gesture. He could feel the blood steadily dripping down his neck and back and shuddered at the feeling, half-heartedly trying to scramble away from where Kate had him fixed to the spot. Her razor-sharp claws only sank deeper.

"Ffff-" Stiles scrambled, but the action only put pressure on his knee and he cried out in pain again. Derek growled in distress where he stood, the red hot fury in his eyes second only to fear.

"Stop, what do you want!" Derek demanded of Kate.

She chuckled at him.

"Aww, how sweet, the little wolfboy's all grown up and in lo-," she taunted.

"Let him go," Derek said unfalteringly. Kate only dug in her claws harder in response and Stiles vision whited out again as he let out a shouting gasp.

Derek snarled.

"I'll let him go if you come over here," Kate smirked in a sing-song voice and Stiles watched in distant horror as Derek clenched his jaw and stalked closer. His eyes fixed on Stiles as though trying to see where else he was hurt with laser-vision he didn't have.

Stiles tried to smile at him, show him it was alright, but his head was getting woozy with pain and blood loss and he was starting to flutter in and out of consciousness. It drew a distressed sounding whine from Derek that made Stiles want to go to him, but he just couldn't. block. out. the pain.

When Derek was close enough for Kate to touch him, she brought up her free hand and ran it appreciatively down his sweat slick chest. Derek was tense, his eyes clenched shut like he could still feel where this mistake had led him last time.

Stiles shivered and gathered the last dregs of his strength. Even if he couldn't summon his Spark, he could still do some damage. He reached forward as much he could with a bent arm and barrelled his elbow into Kate's stomach, wrenching himself off her claws as he fell towards Derek.

Kate let out a shout of surprise and pain as Derek caught him deftly.

"Good job. You okay?" he murmured low against Stiles' ear and used the opportunity to draw some of his pain, grunting at the effort. Normally Stiles would chew him out for it, but the sharp relief it granted allowed him a much needed clear mind.

He focused his senses and tried to find his Spark again as Kate growled and righted herself again, advancing on them with her fangs out, dangerous and deadly.

Derek instinctively pushed Stiles behind him and growled, making sure to keep skin contact with him so he could keep taking Stiles' pain. Stiles sorta loved him for how easily he protected his own, but he didn't have time to think about that because Kate was leaping at them. Derek pushed Stiles as far away as he could and then he went down with Kate landing on top of him, a blur of claws and fatal fangs.

Stiles' heart was in his throat as he watched the two predators bite and slash at each other, but the pain Derek had taken kept his mind clear for long enough to ignore the blood spurting out of his neck and the burning in his knee. He located his Spark and the light in the room flickered just a little.

 _C'mon, just a little more,_ he urged, but the light didn't seem to be on his side.

In front of him, Derek had gained an advantage and was sinking his large fangs into Kate's shoulder when-

Four sharp shots echoed throughout the room.

Stiles shouted in horror as Derek slumped over and blood pooled on the floor and through his skin. He felt sick as he watched Kate push Derek's worryingly dead weight off of her and rise on unsteady feet, eyes wild and crazy as she zeroed in on him. She grinned maniacally and made her way over. Derek protested feebly behind her, trying in vain to reach for Stiles even as he bled out on the floor.

_Fuck this._

The fury that filled Stiles was unlike anything he felt before. He didn't remember much of what happened next, only the surge of his Spark within him, the soul-deep need to protect, to avenge. The light shattered above them and plunged them into darkness but then Stiles' Spark grabbed a hold of it and he felt his eyes go white as he redirected the electricity towards Kate. He watched the beautiful sparks light the look of fear and horror on Kate's face.

And he went straight for her heart.

The scream of agony and thud of a body hitting the floor told him he'd hit his mark. _That's for Derek._

But still, he could never be too careful.

He tried channelling his Spark again, eager to get to his Alpha, and the fizz of electricity he got in response was beautiful. He did his best to hold it in his hands, switching between them when the heat got too much.

Then he limped over to Kate's body, grunting and grimacing with every hop. Progress was slower than he hoped, but he was going as fast as he could. Soon, the slightly dulled sparks were lighting up Kate's lifeless face, still partially shifted. She looked a little shocked and a lot dead. Stiles thought it was a good look for her.

Carefully, making sure to keep his Spark at the ready, he reached down and groped at the ground for her gun, and his fingers closed around cold metal. He shivered, a memory of all the power the Nogitsune yielded with only a single weapon flitting through him, but he gripped the metal tighter, let it centre him. Derek was bleeding out after all. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans, flicking the safety on first. Then, for good measure, he pulled it out again and cocked it, aiming for Kate's heart again and burying a bullet in the organ she should've used to love. _That's for his family._

Stiles knew that logically Derek should already be healing, but the lack of movement from the Alpha's general direction was starting to really worry him, so with a quick glance at Kate, he hobbled over towards Derek.

The sight that greeted him had his heart dropping out of his chest. Derek's eyes looked worryingly lifeless as they stared blankly at the ceiling. The only sign of life was the small, stunted rise and fall of his bleeding chest and the weak sludge of blood oozing from his wounds.

"No, no, no, no," Stiles whispered and collapsed to the ground beside the Alpha, ignoring the blinding flare of pain that came from his knee.

He was already crying anyway.

"D-derek, c'mon man, you can't die, hey, stay with me," he begged, slapping lightly at Derek's sweat covered cheek. He whimpered when the only response he got was the slow fluttering of Derek's eyelashes.

"Derek, Derek, dude c'mon, _heal_ ," he breathed, hands ghosting over his wounds with his Spark for light and he almost cried at the sight of the black gook that covered Derek's torso and much of the floor. In the dim light, Stiles took in the deadly paleness of Derek's skin, the tell-tale black veins of creeping disease heading straight for Derek's heart.

_Wolfsbane._

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Stiles whispered, fumbling desperately for the bullets still in his pockets as he took in the lines of black filling Derek's veins.

"Okay, you were shot more than once, maybe it accelerated the wolfsbane effects. It's okay big guy, we can get you out of this," he murmured frantically, trying to keep his tone soothing so that Derek wouldn't let go. He kept whispering quiet praise and encouragement, extinguishing his Spark to stroke softly through Derek's hair as he rifled through his pockets with his left hand. His knee was burning.

His fingers finally curled around the cool metal and he pulled out as many bullets as he could. He pulled the revolver out of the waistband of his jeans and popped out the chamber.

Stiles cursed silently as he struggled to get the bullets out, heart sinking when he only counted two bullets left, not enough for him to cure Derek with the powder from the bullets alone. He didn't regret putting one in that bitch's heart though.

God, he hoped the strain in Kate's bullets was the same as one of the strains he had with him. He was still working on collecting bullets of each kind, just to be prepared if a pack member got shot or even if he needed a quick weapon against a were threat. But so far he only had purple and yellow wolfsbane bullets.

His fingers were going slippery with sweat as he tried to unscrew the bullet, panting with the exertion and stress as he felt his knee give out. He sprawled gracelessly next to Derek, legs twisted at horrible angles.

He ignored it. He just had to save Derek.

The bullet opened and he poured the powder into his palm, chucking the shell to the side and calling upon his Spark once more, praying desperately that it would still work for him. The fizzle of electricity came back to life and he bit back a sob, vision going blurry from tears as he carefully held his hand over the first bullet wound and lit the powder on fire. The scent of burning wolfsbane filled the air and it clogged up his throat even though he was human. The stinging in his eyes was painful, but he pushed through, pressing the ash into Derek's bullet wound and holding his breath.

Derek reared up, torso clenching painfully and blood spurting from his wounds as a deafening roar cut through the basement. Stiles cried with relief at the tell-tale Alpha red fury in Derek's eyes as he twisted in pain. The Alpha let out a grunt as the pain subsided and his vision cleared a little more. Stiles watched as Derek frowned a little and looked over at him dazedly. Stiles was already working on the next bullet, and he held the powder up in the light, taking in its slight purple shade. Purple wolfsbane then? He wasn't sure, but he hoped he was right. At least with Derek being a little more lucid, they could get through the rest together.

"Stiles?"

Derek's voice was crackly, weak. Stiles shushed him gently.

"This is gonna hurt a little, okay?" the Spark said quietly, urgently.

He felt Derek's hooded eyes watching him with that still predatorial stare and maybe it made Stiles a little messed up, but the sensation had Stiles' insides warming. It was familiar, it was Derek.

"Yeah, okay," came Derek's dazed reply and Stiles gave him no more warning before he burned the wolfsbane and shoved it into Derek's second bullet wound.

The man roared again, choking a little at the pain and Stiles wiped off his hands quickly, taking Derek heavily in his arms so he could rest on Stiles' lap. He took care to avoid putting pressure on his knee, but being sprawled out like this put less pressure on it anyway, so his pain had dulled from blinding to near constant discomfort.

He pushed it away for the moment, rubbing soothing circles into Derek's arm and whispering quiet nothings into his ear. The Alpha seemed a little unused to the feeling of being looked after - it made Stiles miserable, but Derek also seemed to quiet a little at Stiles' touch and he relaxed into the brunet. Stiles thought that maybe Derek would have to get used to it. Something was starting to shift between them, and if it meant Derek would maybe let Stiles in without biting his head off, then he sure as hell was gonna look his Alpha.

"Just two more, Sourwolf," he breathed quietly, reaching for some of the bullets he'd pulled out of his pockets and unscrewing a purple dotted one to the side, grateful for his handy colour-coding system. He was careful not to get any wolfsbane near Derek.

The man just nodded silently, teeth gritted at the pain, but he was starting to look a little better. Stiles brushed a small kiss to the side of Derek's head absently, only realising what he'd done when he felt Derek's breath hitch quietly against him and the man shuddered a little. Stiles quickly burned the wolfsbane and shoved it into another wound, trying to cover up any awkwardness. He braced Derek against his chest when the man shook violently and whimpered.

It seemed to be the same kind of wolfsbane. Thank God for small miracles.

"Hey, shh baby, you're doing so well. Just one more, stay with me Derek, it's gonna be okay," he whispered, lips moving against the Alpha's sweat-soaked burning forehead. He felt Derek shiver against him again and subtly lean into Stiles a little more. Stiles' heart went a little crazy in his chest and his lips twitched into an involuntary smile. Despit it all, he was half-grateful for Derek's dazed state because he didn't think the man noticed. 

"W-what about you," Derek gritted out, Alpha-red eyes a little clearer, but still hazy with the effects of the wolfsbane.

"Shh," Stiles said again quietly, uncapping the final bullet and pouring the last of the powder into his palm. Derek seemed lucid enough to protest because he was growling slightly were he lay half in Stiles' lap. Stiles couldn't help the second wave of relief that coursed through him. His Sourwolf would be okay, he was back to growling. Well, not _his_ Sourwolf. Not his.

"Did you just shush me?" Derek grumbled against him, sneaking a hand up to reach for Stiles' wrist.

"Nope, no Alpha healing mojo 'til I've got this wolfsbane out of you and we're safe, Sourwolf," Stiles chided, moving his powder-filled palm carefully out of the way in a rare show of coordination. His knee was starting to flare up again though and the trickle of blood down his neck was filling his awareness more with every second.

Derek grumbled some more and Stiles watched his nostrils flare as he scented the air.

"Don't sniff right now, I'm burning wolfsbane," he said gently, then lit the last of the powder into ash and pressed it to the last of Derek's wounds.

The Alpha seemed prepared for the pain this time because he only growled and jolted a little before he was finally relaxing into Stiles, a sigh leaving his chest. Stiles quickly extinguished his Spark and ran his hands gently through the sweat-matted hair curling at Derek's temples.

"That better?"

The man nodded and was silent for a beat or two.

"You're bleeding," Derek whispered, and Stiles remembered him scenting the air.

"A little," Stiles admitted, wanting to shift a little but knowing it would only hurt more.

"More than is healthy," Derek corrected and started to reach once again for Stiles' wolfsbane free hand.

"Let me-"

"-Derek-" Stiles protested feebly, but the Alpha flashed his eyes at him again and those murderous eyebrows were back full-blast.

"Fine," Stiles acquiesced, and he watched the dim light flicker over Derek's grimy and sweat-slick face as he kept his Spark alight with the last dregs of his energy. He was still beautiful, still Derek. This time, he let the Alpha's fingers close around his wrist when he reached for Stiles. Not because his touch grounded his thundering heart. No, not at all.

The pain dulled significantly and Stiles closed his eyes around an open-mouthed sigh.

"Thanks Der," he said quietly.

Derek was silent in response and when Stiles opened his eyes again, the Alpha was staring at him with an unreadable expression. It made Stiles very nervous.

"Wha-"

"-Did you kill her?"

Stiles winced.

"Yeah."

Derek was quiet for a bit longer. It made Stiles antsy - he wasn't sure if Derek had wanted to be the one to do the deed.

"Listen, I'm so-" Stiles began.

"-Don't."

Stiles' heart clenched in his throat.

"Don't what?"

"Don't apologise Stiles. You looked after yourself," Derek answered. But Stiles could sense there was something more.

"Okay?"

"You looked after yourself, and I should have been there. You shouldn't have had to-"

A surge of anger swelled in Stiles' chest.

"-No," he interrupted firmly.

"What?" Derek said weakly. He sounded so tired.

"You are not going to feel guilty about this, Derek Hale," he said steadfastly.

"But-"

"Derek, I would die for you without a second thought."

He felt rather than heard the Alpha's intake of breath.

"Listen to my heartbeat when I tell you this, Derek. You are worth everything on this goddamn planet but you have only been wronged. And you know what that is? It's the cosmos playing shitty joke after shitty joke on you. It fucking sucks, but you did not _deserve_ a single part of it and you are not to _blame_ for a single part of it. And, Derek, whatever fuckery our pack inevitably stumbles into next, will again not be a reflection of your "failure" as an Alpha. Just by caring and being _you_ , you're a better Alpha than any other wolf I know," he stated.

Derek was breathing hard against Stiles' chest. Stiles leaned over to check on him and his heart squeezed in his chest when he saw tears running down the Alpha's cheeks. His eyes were screwed shut and he looked like he wanted to curl into himself. Stiles held him a little tighter.

"An Alpha's duty is first to the pack, then to himself."

The words were spoken so quietly, Stiles wasn't even sure he'd heard them at first. But Derek had said them.

Stiles stayed quiet for a little longer, waiting for Derek to say something more. But he didn't. Just those words. Like they were something to live by.

"I don't think you should take that so close to heart, Der," he said gently.

Derek started to protest but Stiles cut him off again.

"Pack is family, Derek. And all relationships, especially family, are built on trust and reliability. So if your duty is to the pack, that doesn't mean that everyone that isn't _you_ comes first. Because the Alpha is a part of the pack too, and that means decisions that you make have to be in not only our best interests, but also in yours."

Stiles paused to gather his thoughts. He knew this was important to get right.

"All that that code means, is that the pack should be your first priority in every pack-related decision you make. It's probably to stop Alphas using their power for personal gain. But Derek, you're the furthest thing from selfish I've ever seen."

The man seemed to think about that for a while longer but then he was speaking.

"But the Alpha has to be strong. If I show weakness, I can't-," he broke off quietly, like he was confused, didn't see how he could rely on the pack like they did him without being a bad Alpha.

"I've always loved your sense of honour, Sourwolf, but don't follow it at the cost of yourself. A pack's duty is to every single member of that pack. The Alphas, the Betas, every single packmate. No-one is left behind, no-one is left uncared for. Derek, dude, that includes you. So, letting your pack in does not make you a bad Alpha, Der. It makes you part of the pack you protect. It makes you family." 

He knew Derek would need some time to process that, so he moved the Alpha's grip to a little higher on his arm and went back to carding his hands gently through his hair, letting Derek silently take his pain. Minutes passed, maybe hours. Stiles didn't know, his awareness was reduced to his fingers in Derek's hair and Derek's hand on his arm.

“Thank you,” the man finally said quietly.

“For what?” Stiles asked, nonplussed.

“For- I don't know. The things I should have thanked you for.”

Stiles smiled a little and couldn’t help pressing another little kiss to the Alpha’s forehead.

But the Alpha didn't bite his head off for it. He just kept taking Stiles' pain, squeezed his arm a little tighter, burrowed in a little closer.

Stiles really did love him.

He shifted a little and hissed at the pain, dulled because of Derek’s touch but the Alpha grunted at the movement too, so Stiles knew the sudden flare had been a lot worse than he'd felt.

“Your leg is hurt,” Derek said, deathly quiet as he reached fingers up to ghost over the area.

“Uhh, yeah, I guess. She was handy with a pipe,” he joked darkly, trying to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere.

It didn’t work. In fact, it made it a little worse.

“She _kneecapped_ you?” Derek demanded, rage rising in his throat.

“Um-”

“Stiles, I thought you _fell_. You could have permanent damage, c’mon we gotta get you to the hospital,” Derek said, and he was up in seconds, eyes blazing as he looked challengingly at Stiles for protest.

Stiles only managed mourned the loss of the Alpha’s heat for a few seconds.

"But, I'm fine-"

But then Derek was leaning down with lifting Stiles into his arms effortlessly and he yelped, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck for safety. Derek was surprisingly gently as he held him bridal style and the feel of all that hard hot muscle beneath him shut Stiles right up.

He just knew he was blushing hard enough to give a stop sign a run for its money. He only hoped the Alpha would put it down to blood loss or heat, but when he chanced a glance at Derek, he was so close he could feel the man clear his throat as he averted his eyes. He didn't seem awkward or embarrassed, just...flustered?

The smile that twitched against Stiles' lips was unstoppable. Something had definitely changed between them. Whatever it was had a small warm feeling sparking in Stiles' chest.

Derek started carrying him out of the warehouse. But, they only got to the door before the rest of the pack arrived, falling over each other in their rush.

"What happened?-"

"Is she dead?-"

"What did we miss-"

"Stiles, you're okay!"

The sudden clamour was overwhelming, even for Stiles, and he shrunk into Derek's warmth, resisting the temptation to just bury his nose in the man's neck and come out when everything was better.

The Alpha seemed to sense his discomfort, he was good at that. He growled lowly in warning and the Betas and Scott shut up pretty quick after that.

"He's injured. We gotta get him to the hospital," Derek stated, already carrying Stiles into the middle of God-knows-where. Because Stiles was pretty sure Derek had arrived on foot, or "paw" maybe? Was he planning on carrying him?

The answer soon became obvious.

"Stiles, son, are you okay?"

"Dad!"

So Derek had been able to smell the Sheriff's scent.

The relief that flooded Stiles at the sight of his dad was sort of foreign to him - he hadn't felt such genuine joy at seeing his dad for a while. That's not to say he didn't love his pops, he did. But after the Nogitsune, things in the Stilinski household had been tense. The Sheriff was never more than a few feet from his gun and Stiles tiptoed gingerly around the topics neither of them wanted to discuss. Still, he embraced it anyway.

"Daddy-oh, Dad, life-giver, how're you here?"

His dad shook his head looked at him with a sort of exasperated fondness - a look Stiles had come to call " _done with your shit but I love you anyway_ ". It was a common one.

"Scott and your buddies came to find me and I tailed them here," he explained, following Derek who seemed to be on a one-track mission to get Stiles to a hospital. He was already walking towards the Sheriff's police cruiser with Stiles bundled in his arms and he paused in front of it for the Sheriff to open the door.

"I-uh, brought some of Stiles' clothes for you to wear, son. Pair o' baggy sweatpants should fit you just fine," the Sheriff said kindly and Derek thanked him, setting Stiles down with help from the Sheriff to grab the sweatpants from the trunk. When he returned, adequately covered, the Sheriff had opened the _back_ door for Stiles which got a surprised look from Derek.

"Stiles will be fine in the back, son. He's grounded anyway. You can ride up front this time," his dad said pointedly, ignoring Stiles' indignant squawk. The Sheriff looked at Derek with pride and gratitude and even though Stiles was a little annoyed at the whole "grounded" thing, he was glad people were appreciating his Sourwolf.

He watched as Derek's eyebrows did a weird squiggle thing - no #12 in the eyebrow handbook and a rare expression. It meant _I'm touched but also a macho Alpha that doesn't know how to deal with human kindness so, I won't say anything but thank you._

Stiles hid a smile in his shoulder and winced as the Alpha stepped towards him and helped him into the back seat. But then Derek was climbing in after him.

"Derek-"

"I'd prefer to stay with Stiles if that's okay," Derek said to the Sheriff, ignoring Stiles completely, which, _rude_. But Stiles was sure he was blushing because- Derek wanted to stay with him?

His dad got an all-knowing look on his face that normally drove Stiles crazy, but he let it slide because was that _Derek_ blushing?

Wasn't that a sight?

"'Course, son. Alright, let's get you to Melissa, kiddo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys liked it :) kudos and comment to feed a hungry author <3


	3. And Therefore Is Winged Cupid Painted Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> further healing :)
> 
> not all the way because that's not how life works, but they're working towards it together.
> 
> This chapter's title is again from A Midsummer Night's Dream, just to tie to all together :)
> 
> "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,  
> And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finished!
> 
> Not beta read and frankly the author is hanging by the last threads of her sanity so please be nice XD But if you find any grammatical errors or anything, feel free to let me know!
> 
> hope you like!!
> 
> This took me so long, I'm sorry y'all <3

Stiles woke up in a hospital bed and winced, squinting as the light blinded him temporarily.

Everything hurt, but his knee felt a lot better and the scratchy feel of a bandage at his neck told him they'd fixed him up good. Sinking easily into old habits, he was already pressing the morphine-clicker in his left hand and he sighed as he felt the pain start to ease.

When his mind had cleared a little more, he became aware of a hand grasping his right and smiled lightly, squeezing it gently.

"Dad?" he said quietly.

"Not quite," came a voice, rough and tired-sounding but so distinctly- _Derek's_.

That got Stiles to open his eyes fully and he blinked rapidly in the werewolf's direction. When he could see him properly, he gasped. The man looked like a wreck. He had bags big enough to fit Stiles' anxiety under his eyes and he smelled like he hadn't showered in a couple days. Even now, the man was pulling his pain, the hand in Stiles' black-veined and comfortingly warm. Stiles tugged his hand away gently, he didn't want to the wolf hurting anymore. Derek's beautiful eyes still hadn't met his. They were fixed on the hospital blanket and they shuttered when Stiles pulled away.

"How long-" Stiles rasped out and then dissolved into a fit of coughs from the dryness of his throat. Tears pricked his eyes and his throat was burning. _Just how long **had** he been out? _Derek was up in a second, reaching over to grab a jug of water Stiles hadn't noticed and pouring it out quickly into a hospital plastic cup.

He held it in front of Stiles' lips, calloused hand coming up to support his jaw lightly.

"Drink," he grunted.

Stiles wanted to say he could do it himself, but settled for rolling his eyes and obeying. Secretly, he was glad. He didn't actually think he could have managed it alone.

Once he'd drank a little more, his throat had been soothed and he asked his question again.

"How long have I been out?

"Three days," Derek said gruffly. "They said you were lucky with your leg. You still have extensive soft tissue damage, but the bone didn't break. The claw wounds in your neck will heal, but they'll scar. We had Deaton take a look at them, and he doesn't think you'll turn. Something about the rareness of were-jaguars."

As Derek spoke, his eyes were vacant and stuck on a spot on the wall. He looked numb, like he was recycling information while he relived the trauma of it all. Stiles thought he looked like he needed taking care of.

Stiles grunted with the effort of forcing himself into a seated position and Derek flashed him a concerned look as he rushed to help. When Stiles brushed him off, the Alpha flinched and stepped away. Stiles' heart clenched in his chest.

"Hey. Derek?" Stiles said gently.

Derek's eyes carefully came back to meet his.

"C'mere."

Stiles held open his arms as much as he could and he watched the Alpha battle indecision. The hesitation that flicked briefly over his face would have been enough to make Stiles flush embarrassedly and apologise before. But he knew now that the problem wasn't him. Derek just needed to get used to letting people in. 

So he held his arms open and waited. Sure enough, Derek moved towards him and gently leaned down into his arms. Stiles wound them tightly around the Alpha's back and buried his nose into his hair, uncaring of the sweat and grime that clung to Derek's skin. He felt Derek's nose skirt along his neck and he knew he must have smelled just as bad. But the Alpha seemed to relax a little after he'd scented him, so he kept Derek there until the man wanted to pull away. Rule No.1 of hug-giving - don't pull away until the person in need of the hug pulls away first. Honestly, Stiles would make such a good Pack Mom. He'd badger Derek about the title again once he was better.

Soon - too soon for Stiles' liking - the Alpha broke away. Though he didn't go far, just sat back in the chair beside Stiles' bed and took his hand again. Stiles let him.

A knock at the door drew Stiles' attention and he looked up to see Melissa smiling from the door.

"Stiles, sweetie, you're up. That's good," she said as she walked further into the room with a chart in hand.

"I'm sure Derek has already explained most of the injuries you've sustained. But just in case-"

Stiles tuned her out. He didn't want to hear more about how fucked his body was. In favour, he glanced over at Derek, and watched the man stare blankly at the white of the hospital sheets.

The Alpha must have felt his eyes on him because he looked up to meet his gaze. Stiles held in a gasp at the brokenness and guilt he somehow saw in them and he squeezed Derek's hand just a little tighter, like maybe he could take the Alpha's pain too. Derek's eyelids fluttered closed.

Mellissa had left the room at some point, but she knocked on the door again now to tell them the Sheriff was on his way from his shift.

Stiles glanced back at Derek to see if the Alpha would react to the news but the man seemed to content to stay by his bedside, holding his hand.

 _Huh. Weird._ But not a bad weird. God, not a bad weird at all.

He settled for stroking his thumb gently over the back of Derek's hand, doing his best to comfort the man while he was still stuck in a hospital bed. The only sign Derek gave of registering it was a quiet shudder as he leaned down to rest his chin on the mattress beside Stiles' leg.

He sat contentedly in silence and must have drifted off at some point because when he came to, the Sheriff's voice had filled the quiet hum of the hospital room and it was joined by the Alpha's gruff monotone.

"-should go home and shower, son. You been here since we brought him in. Stiles will be okay," his dad was saying and _Derek hadn't left? What...did that mean?_

"I can't- I can't explain it sir, but I can't leave him," the Alpha replied quietly.

 _Mate._ The word came back to him from somewhere deep inside his consciousness, some distant memory he couldn't quite place. He didn't particularly know why the memory had chosen to come back to him now, so he passed it off as nothing.

Unable to stay quiet for much longer, Stiles let his eyes flutter open, briefly squinting to adjust to the light.

"Hey kiddo," came a familiar voice and he was greeted by the sight of his father, work-weary but smiling. He felt Derek stiffen beside him and squeezed his hand briefly where it was still clasped in his on the bed.

"Hey pops, what's crack-a-lackin?" he rasped, grunting a little as he shifted in bed.

The Sheriff huffed an exasperated laugh but smiled warmly at him and walked towards him.

"Listen kid, I've got another shift soon. Melissa said you're technically not allowed to be home til tomorrow but because of the...ya know...," the Sheriff cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing at Derek. But the Alpha was ignoring him, having gone back to staring at the walls with his hand still in Stiles', silently pulling his pain.

"Well, what with the- "supernatural" nature of the attack, she cleared you to leave now so it's easier for Deaton to keep an eye on you. As long as you have someone with you at all times," the Sheriff explained, looking again towards Derek. Stiles rolled his eyes. He was the one with anxiety and yet the two most important men in his life couldn't communicate to save their lives.

"You want me to go to the loft, dad?" Stiles offered quietly, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

The Sheriff sighed with relief. "If it's not too much trouble for Derek?" he said, directing his question at the Alpha.

"No. No trouble," came the Alpha's hoarse reply. Apparently, he was lucid. Could have fooled Stiles.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the Sheriff had left, Stiles looked over at Derek. The Alpha was rising from his seat already and he went about packing up any of Stiles' things from the room. He hadn't said anything since agreeing to let Stiles stay at the loft, and it was making him a little antsy.

He debated tentatively starting up a conversation, but he wasn't sure what to say, and he didn't think Derek would contribute much anyways. So he just sat in bed, fiddling anxiously with the covers to give his hands something to do. He sat helpless to quiet the restless buzz inside of him telling him make Derek feel better, to calm him. 

Meanwhile Derek bustled quietly around the room, disappearing only once to retrieve Stiles' bloody clothes in a bag from Melissa. Stiles winced at the sight of them and that was the only time Derek made eye contact. But then he quickly looked away once he was sure Stiles hadn't done something stupid like stand up. _Which he definitely hadn't done on previous hospital visits...with a bullet wound...and maybe pulled the stitches..._

_Whatever, Stiles' was Pack Mom not his own carer. Doctors are the worst patients right? Surely that applied in some way..._

It was soon time to leave. Stiles hadn't really noticed the time passing - if he was honest he'd been drifting in and out of consciousness since his dad left. The only thing that kept waking him up was that need, that instinctive pull towards Derek. Stiles wasn't a wolf, but he knew Derek's scent would be off. Something wasn't right. Stiles thought the talk they'd had in the warehouse maybe hadn't sunk in as much as he'd hoped. But that was okay.

 _Healing is not a linear process._ That's what Dr. Manerde always used to say, back when the only thing he'd needed a therapist for was dealing with the loss of his mother. After the Nogitsune, Stiles' dad had suggested going back to her. Stiles had refused.

He hadn't really felt like having anyone else in his head.

Once they'd wheeled Stiles down to the Camaro in a squeaky old hospital wheelchair, it didn't take long before they set off in the direction of the loft. Mellissa had let them go with a soft smile and an order to Stiles for "no funny business" which he guessed meant he couldn't use his Spark til he'd healed. Though it wasn't like he had control over it anyway. Given his luck he'd explode a kettle and wind up back here tomorrow with nothing but Derek's force of will keeping him alive.

The car ride was silent too, but by now that was par for the course. Derek had lifted him into the passenger's seat without so much as a glance and now they glided smoothly down the roads towards the loft. Not even the radio was playing. Stiles couldn't help himself when he started tapping randomly, good knee jogging lightly as he watched the trees blur past. He was sort of waiting for Derek to growl at him, tell him to stop, or really just say _anything_. But the Alpha seemed to lost in his thoughts to care.

Stiles tried not to let his strange behaviour bother him. That is to say, he lasted all of five minutes before he was breaking the silence.

"So what's up? Why are you acting weird?" he asked casually, then mentally berated himself for even opening his mouth.

Derek was silent for a long while after Stiles spoke, so he figured the man just wouldn't answer.

But then-

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Alpha said quietly.

_Lie._

But Stiles decided to drop it, for now. Even as part of him ached at the realisation that maybe their epic bonding moment™ back at the warehouse could have been just a one-sided view of progress. That maybe now, things would go back to being growly and distant between them. Stiles hated that idea. But he wasn't entirely sure how to fix it.

They pulled up to the loft and Derek got out of the car wordlessly, crossing around the front to pull open Stiles' door. Normally, Stiles would have cracked a joke, maybe made a comment about gentlemen and chivalry, but the wolf wouldn't have laughed anyway. He looked robotic, like his body was here but his mind was probably lost in tangled webs of trauma and grief.

Stiles knew, logically, that everyone processes differently. But thanks to Derek's closed off personality, Stiles didn't actually know how the Alpha processed trauma because he'd never been allowed to be there for him. Maybe this was part of his process. He thought about calling Cora but immediately shut that line of thinking down. The female Hale was almost scarier than Sourwolf himself.

Derek was carrying him inside, walking with him to the door so he could buzz himself into the building. Stiles thought he might let him down to walk up the stairs, but the Alpha just carried his weight like he couldn't feel it. No strained muscles, no clenched jaw. Like he was a sack of potatoes. Though, the way their relationship was looking right now, Stiles might as well have been.

When they got inside the loft, Derek laid him down on his bed, still refusing to make eye contact. He was gentle, and Stiles could admit he'd had many a fantasy that begun not unlike this. But instead, Derek turned towards the door and left.

"Wh-" Stiles started, but the Alpha was already out of the door.

Stiles sighed. This sucked.

\----------------------------Derek--------------------------------------

Derek wasn't sure how much longer he could last. He didn't know how to explain all these feelings, all these thoughts swirling around his head. Was too scared to put a name on it, even though deep down he knew.

_Mate._

Of course.

Despite all that had happened, that discovery wasn't as surprising as it should have been. He'd loved Stiles for a long while, and this would explain why his wolf was particularly batshit around the boy. He just didn't know what to do about it.

Stiles was...well, Stiles. He was funny, and caring and so fucking loyal. And he was brave, badass and beautiful. So beautiful. He deserved so much more than Derek could ever give him. Derek had hoped, that maybe one day, he would find a mate. Be able to put Stiles out of his mind and maybe settle down with someone who he deserved. No-one deserved Stiles. But especially not Derek.

When Stiles had been taken by the Nogitsune, Derek had been powerless to stop it. Had been forced to watch the boy he loved smile crooked and twisted, the demon infesting his mind pulling puppet strings at his skin. _Wearing_ him, like Stiles was nothing. It had broken Derek almost as much as he was sure it had broken Stiles.

He saw it in the vacant stares, the fake smiles, the ever-present sunken eyes and wiry frame. Like even now, Stiles was just a body. Skin that wasn't worn by a being behind it. And it broke Derek to know that some part of Stiles, of that beautiful, clumsy and brave almost-adult, had died when the Nogitsune had died.

He wasn't sure that it would ever come back.

But then he thought back to his time waiting for Stiles to come out of surgery. He'd taken it as an opportunity to process what had passed between them at the warehouse. He hadn't been able to make himself believe what the boy had said because his words so clearly contrasted the scene they were in at the hospital - it was Derek's fault Stiles was even there.

But what had stuck with him through the endless spirals of hate in his head, was that their talk at the warehouse had been the first time Derek had seen Stiles behave a little like his old self. Less vacant, less lost. Earnest, _alive_. Like maybe Derek almost dying had pulled him back to the world, just for a little while. And now, Derek just hoped he might find other (more healthy) ways of keeping him there. Anchoring him, just like Stiles was Derek's anchor.

And he knew he might never tell Stiles about their being mates. Had accepted that it wouldn't end well. But that didn't mean he couldn't try to make things better.

Maybe if he made Stiles feel safe enough, one day he wouldn't flinch every time he heard the Sheriff cock his gun. Maybe he wouldn't have to count his fingers before going to bed, only to lie awake fearing the nightmares. He wondered what Stiles would say if he told him he knew. That unlike what Stiles hoped, Derek saw every little moment, every little broken movement the brunet made that screamed he wasn't okay. Derek could see him. He wanted to tell him it was okay.

 _I know how broken you are,_ he wanted to say. _I can see it and you're beautiful anyway._

But he didn't.

The crunch of gravel beneath his boots brought him jarringly back to the present. He looked around - realised he'd somehow made it out of the apartment building and towards the Camaro.

Unlocking it, he reached in to grab Stiles' things. He could feel the dirt and grime cling to him like a second skin. He didn't think he could bring himself to wash it off just yet. Guilt didn't work like that - it lingered.

And so would that feeling of dirtiness, of blame. He was well-versed in its pattern - had imagined fate threading his story with it for nine years. That thought got Derek to stop with Stiles' clothes still clutched in his hands.

_It had been nine years since the fire, and he'd only avenged his family now._

And really, it hadn't even been him.

If Stiles hadn't been there, Derek would surely be dead, his family unavenged, his _mate_ still captive and bound, likely being tortured by the worst woman on the fucking planet.

He was a failure. A Failwolf, he supposed.

He could survive a little more of that blame. He deserved it, for how he kept failing the ones he loved.

Distantly an old voice in his mind growled at his self hatred. It sounded oddly like Laura - she'd always been adamant he shouldn't blame himself. Believe it or not, he did know these thoughts were harmful to himself. He'd been told as much enough times by almost everyone who knew him well. But that didn't make it any easier to stop having them and in the moments it got really bad, he couldn't bring himself to care particularly what was harmful to him. It all just felt deserved.

That familiar restless feeling started up under his skin, the need to tear out of his body, run forever or until he couldn't think anymore. Just to go away. 

A few years ago, he would have packed his bags - left wherever he was without so much as a goodbye. But now something, _someone,_ anchored him here. He thought that maybe it was this same anchor that always seemed to bring him back to this Godawful place.

His next option was going for a run, but just about anything on the theme of leaving Stiles felt like the deepest kind of sin to the wolf prowling beneath his skin. He gnashed his teeth in his mouth, felt the urge to drop his fangs but stopped himself. Dug his claws into his palm. _Calm down, calm down, calmdown._

He loosed a breath through gritted teeth and grunted. All his usual coping mechanisms wouldn't work, he couldn't run, couldn't just up and leave, was too close to everything to just roar. If he worked out until he dropped, there would be no-one to keep lookout to protect Stiles.

He was too high strung to settle for contact just yet. He needed, he needed he needed, but he _couldn't._

_Fuck._

He inhaled steadily, tried to pretend his breath didn't shake and gripped Stiles' bag a little tighter. He'd have to grit his teeth and bear it. He pushed forward, each step back into the loft feeling like a step closer to that existential dread, that fear of something, of failure, of death.

When he blinked back into reality again it took him a moment to get his bearings. It always happened like this. He'd zone out, get too lost in his thoughts and lose track of time. Fuck, he barely even remembered the ride from the hospital.

Stiles' clothes weren't in his hand anymore, and the boy himself was nowhere to be seen. Derek cast out his feelers, listened for that tell-tale too-fast heartbeat and realised it was a little slower than it should have been. Was Stiles...?

The panic that gripped Derek's heart had the wolf inside him whining, almost howling and he bolted towards the sound, worry clawing up his throat, only to find-

Stiles asleep. In Derek's bed.

In the back of his mind, Derek remembered Stiles telling him he was going to nap.

 _Fuck._ Not dead, not dying. Asleep.

 _Gods,_ he needed to get it together.

Shower. He could take a shower. A cold one, maybe it would take his mind off of things. He realised he was standing creepily in the doorway to the bedroom and opted to move before Stiles woke up and freaked out at the sight of him. Resident Creeperwolf Derek Hale.

Derek cursed himself, stripping off his clothes before he was even fully inside the bathroom. He left the door slightly ajar so he'd hear if Stiles was in trouble.

And then he turned the shower on full blast, turned the dial as cold as it would go and shoved himself beneath the spray.

 _Shit_ , that was cold.

But instead of thoughts starting to ebb away they built. Spiralled, cacophonous in his ears until he couldn't even hear one before the next bombarded his mind and it was _toomuchtoomuchtoomuch._

He felt the first hot tears spring from his eyes and it felt like a dam unleashing. And suddenly he was on the floor of the shower, hugging his knees tightly and rocking back and forth as he sobbed quiet tears, desperate not to wake Stiles. He shook his head, roughly again and again, faster and harder like he could shake the noises from his mind but there was too much and he didn't understand why he was feeling like this. His heart was throbbing in his chest and he _hurt_ for all the things he'd fucked up in his life and it just got worse and worse.

There was no escape from his thoughts, no relief. He felt like he'd never be at peace again.

The sound of the bathroom door slamming open sounded far away in his ears but he just kept his face buried in his arms, head still shaking from side to side but it wouldn't go away, wouldn't stop-

\--------------------------------------Stiles-------------------------------

Stiles' eyes fluttered open. He'd dreamed briefly and he was surprised that it hadn't been anything terrifying. He supposed it was the fact that he was in Derek's bed, surrounded by his scent. It must have calmed him. But now as he lay awake, a thread of disquiet loosely tied itself around his heart and tugged gently. Not enough for him to panic, but enough for him to sit up. Look around. Get out of bed and hobble to the bedroom door.

No sign of Derek. The man had still been out of it when he'd returned for the car, had looked even more disturbed if that was possible. His eyes had been glazed over and Stiles hadn't been sure Derek had even heard him when he'd told him he was going to nap. At the time, part of Stiles had screamed at him to stay awake, stay with Derek until he was himself again. But he'd also known that Derek probably needed his space and any help he might have needed, he certainly wouldn't have wanted it from Stiles.

Where was Derek now ?

Stiles pushed himself to stumble to the landing, but he didn't see any sign of Derek in the kitchen. Then, the sound of the shower running filled his ears and he breathed a little easier.

He wasn't sure exactly why he was so worried about the man. Of course, he worried. That was natural. But that instinctual need to know Derek was okay, that he was safe. He didn't think that was normal. The word _mate_ clanged through his head again, a distant lingering thought, tugging him towards realisation, an answer. But he couldn't place what it was.

His musings were disrupted by a distressed whine coming from the bathroom and it startled him enough that he scrambled where he was leaning against the landing banister.

Then a heart-wrenching sob.

Loud enough to reach Stiles' human ears over the sound of the thundering shower. That instinct was back again, that string of dread tugging more insistently at him, tugging him towards the bathroom. His heart was already breaking a little at the sound, at the knowledge that it must have come from Derek. He didn't even think twice before he hobbled over to the bathroom and knocked on the door. It was slightly ajar already.

"Derek?"

The only answer was more pitiful sniffles, more frustrated grunts of angry tears. And then an almost snarl and the sound of a bathroom tile cracking and shattering as it made contact with the bath floor. As it broke, something in Stiles broke too and before he could stop himself, he burst through the door.

\-------------------------------------------------Derek---------------------

 _Derek_.

"Derek."

"DEREK."

He snarled at the newcomer, fangs dropping finally in his mouth and eyes shifting red. His fist was smarting distantly though he couldn't remember why.

He took in Stiles shouting worriedly at him beneath the shower he couldn't even feel hitting his skin anymore. A part of him tugged at the distress on Stiles' face but his skin crawled with the urge to leave, to scrabble pointlessly at ceramic wall tile to rid the frustration from his bones. He thought he whined but he wasn't present enough to tell.

"Derek, baby, hey. It's okay, look at me."

The contact of Stiles' warm palm on his cheek sent a shock through his freezing frame and he definitely whimpered that time as a fresh wave of tears crashed down his cheek.

Stiles cursed beneath his breath and then he was scrambling into the shower next to him shuddering under the cold. Derek distantly wondered why another person being in there with him didn't set him off again - the squeeze was tight enough as it was and he already felt the urge to run, space closing around him. Not to mention he was naked, and the encounter with Kate had been fucking horrible in that respect.

But something about the way Stiles ran soothing fingers down his arm, kept his gaze fixed only on Derek's and no wandering eyes or hands broke his focus. Something about the way Stiles seemed to know what to do, his fingers dragging gently through Derek's drenched strands as he nudged his nose against Derek's hairline and and skirted it along his jaw - scenting him to calm him as he drew Derek steadily into a firm embrace and whispered gentle words against his water-wrinkled skin.

The shower didn't turn off, Stiles had only slowly increased the temperature until they were a little warmer and Derek found he'd stopped shaking. So had Stiles.

The boy didn't complain, didn't make a sound except the little grunts of pain every now and again as he tried to find a position that didn't put strain on his wound.

Derek thought he was saying something into the silence, but he wasn't sure what. Only that his mouth was moving around words and tears were stinging his eyes. Stiles was murmuring softly back at him and his heart clenched in his chest.

"It's okay, it's okay it's okay," the boy whispered and Derek sobbed a little harder.

"'m sorry," he now realised he'd been rasping, and he said it again. Firmer.

"I'm sorry Stiles," he whispered.

"You have nothing to apologise for Derek, it's okay," Stiles said back to him.

Derek whined. That wasn't true.

"Hey, Derek."

Stiles waited, probably for Derek to look at him, so he did his best to. He knew his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his face probably horribly stained and ugly. Not that he particularly cared. He didn't deserve anything.

"Nope, nuh-uh, none of that Sourwolf. You've gotta stop hating on yourself like that," Stiles said pleadingly, taking Derek's face in his hands.

Derek blinked. _How did he know ?_

Stiles deadpanned. "Please Sourwolf, like you don't know I spent most of my teenage years pining after you worse than a Winchester?"

Derek did not understand that reference and was about to tell Stiles as much but the boy seemed to get that from his facial features too.

"I'm pretty fluent in Derek language, silly. And I know which ones of your cute little faces are bad news," Stiles said nonchalantly.

" _Why?_ " was all Derek could think to ask. Because he couldn't figure out why Stiles would even care enough, why he would even take the time to do that.

Stiles spluttered incredulously next to him.

"Why?" Stiles asked.

Derek only remained silent.

Not that it mattered to Stiles, he never had trouble talking by himself. Despite himself, Derek felt a small smile tug at his lips. Stiles' tendency to ramble was one of the things Derek loved about him. He closed his eyes tightly against the ache in his chest.

"Why?" he asked again, when it seemed clear Stiles wouldn't elaborate.

"Because, Derek, you're...beautiful."

That wasn't at all what Derek had been expecting, and it took him a moment before he started to protest, but it seemed Stiles wasn't done.

"You care even when you act like you don't and you're so selflessly devoted to everyone but you. The amount of times I've watched you break yourself for people who wouldn't do the same. But that's _you_. And me, I guess.

When I first got to know you, you blew me away because you had so much grief but you didn't let it weigh you down. Or at least you didn't seem to, but then I found out you were so broken on the inside. And that just made me want to hold you for a little while."

Derek whined quietly and Stiles' hands came up around him again and squeezed Derek firmly to his chest. Not constricting, but a confident, warm grip. _Safe._

"After awhile, I realised you didn't know that you had us. You didn't know you had me. You didn't know you don't have to be strong all the time, Sourwolf. I started trying to help, but after the first couple times I figured you just weren't going to let me in, so - I decided I'd keep an eye on you. Just so I'd know when you needed to be alone or when things were getting too much for you."

Stiles' words brought back the memories in Derek's head he'd once passed off as chance. Those days when he was crawling in his skin, tearing out his body to run til he collapsed and desperately hoping the loft would be empty when he returned. And it was. Derek had always figured it was chance, but now... Had it been Stiles who had ushered everyone out, knowing Derek would need the space?

Beside him, Stiles started talking again, voice rumbling softly against Derek's back. It felt nice.

"And the longer I watched you, the more I saw, you know? Then I realised, that that's exactly what you do. It's what makes you such a great Alpha, such a good man. It's because you _listen_. You're quiet because you're _watching_ and _caring_ , not because you've got nothing to say. And that just made me fall in love with you even more. You're good and selfless and so damn hurt it makes me wanna scream because no-one was _watching_. No-one was watching you, like you watch us. No-one was there to know when you were hurting. _That's_ why, Der. Because you deserve someone like you in your corner. So I thought I'd try my best to be there for you if you ever decided you needed me."

Derek didn't know what to say. He felt _seen_ , in a way he'd never really thought was possible before.

It sort of made him want to cry all over again. Which was very unlike him, being the Alpha and such.

But if Stiles meant what he said - and Derek had been listening to his steady heartbeat while he was talking with a sense of rising incredulity - then maybe it would be okay to cry again. Stiles had taught him that being the Alpha didn't mean being put together all the time, didn't mean taking all the blame and responsibility. It just hadn't stuck when Derek had had to spend the next three days watching Stiles come in and out of surgery, scent of hospital antiseptic and clotted blood clogging his nose so much it almost outweighed the scent of his own guilt.

But here Stiles was. Alive. Hugging him. Insisting it was okay.

Not to mention, _had Stiles just told him he loved him?_

Derek wasn't sure how to feel about that, wasn't sure if he quite believed it. But he knew, with a kind of burning intensity, that he couldn't live without the boy. That he loved him too- heart and soul. And that now it seemed like maybe that was okay.

Stiles maybe-loved him. Stiles had been hurt, but he was okay. They had been there for each other and they'd both got out alive.

Maybe it was Stiles' steady heartbeat, or the earnest look in the boy's eyes. Or maybe that wall that had crumbled when he'd read Kate's note just hadn't been rebuilt quite yet. But Derek steeled his resolve, buckled up any courage he had left in his exhausted body and spoke.

"You're my mate."

The silence that pierced the room moments afterwards was deafening.

Derek couldn't help as he shrunk closer into himself, hunched shoulders trying to hide his face as his arms tightened around his bent legs. The stream of the shower was starting to go cold but the shiver Derek let out was nothing to do with the sudden drop in temperature.

Then a warm, soaked hand was gliding softly up Derek's arm again and he felt his cheeks warm despite himself as the boy's hand slid up to cup his face. There were no rough calluses on his palms. Just soft, smooth, unending, milky skin. So, so breakable. 

As though sensing Derek was on the verge of spiralling yet again, Stiles started speaking once more.

"I'm not mad at you or upset or any other kind of negative reaction. But my mind just broke a little, so I need to process," he murmured gently, thumb stroking softly along Derek's cheekbone with such tenderness that Derek, for a unbelievable moment, thought Stiles was trying not to break _him_.

Somehow his words and his touch calmed Derek a little. It shook him, because he hadn't been able to rely on contact for grounding since he was a kid and his mother would cradle him to her chest and rumble soothing purrs against his back. Now this whole time, Stiles had been grounding him by touch. It felt so achingly familiar that despite himself, tears collected in Derek's eyes again. It was like Stiles knew exactly what to do to keep him rooted here. _Mate,_ his wolf agreed, like the lovesick puppy it was.

Derek let out a quiet sigh.

He still didn't know what was going through the Stiles' head, and if he was honest, the silence, especially coming from Stiles, was a little unnerving. He smelled okay for the time being, but Derek knew how quickly that could change, so he wasn't in the clear just yet.

Derek almost whined when Stiles started to stumble-climb out of the shower, silence stretching still. But the brief panic that gripped him at the thought of being left alone dissipated instantly when Stiles stripped out of the soaked pyjama shirt he'd worn back from the hospital.

The sudden expanse of unmarred freckled skin had Derek's throat drying out suddenly, which was odd because he'd seen the boy shirtless often enough. Pack training or when Stiles sweat through his shirts at night from the nightmares. He cleared his throat nervously and averted his gaze, only glancing back when Stiles let out a quiet chuckle. When he looked at the boy again, he was smirking slightly, cheeks tinged with a pretty rose blush as he wrung his shirts out in the sink. Derek's wolf growled at him beneath his skin and he clenched his jaw slightly against the urge to drop his fangs.

 _One step at a time,_ he thought quietly. Stiles hadn't even said anything yet.

 _But he loves you,_ the wolf replied unhelpfully. Derek studiously ignored it.

He watched Stiles towel down his torso and then wrap his waist to step out of his sweatpants and boxers. The boy didn't even seem uncomfortable with having Derek in the room, watching from the shower under the cold spray. Derek reached back and turned it off, but still couldn't muster the willpower to get out and towel off too.

"I don't find it creepy, Derek," Stiles said.

"Um, what?" Derek managed eloquently - were all Emissaries psychic, or was it just Stiles and Deaton?

Stiles chuckled again and it was seriously confusing to Derek just how different the feeling in his heart was at the sound now that he knew Stiles was meant for _him_. Not his yet though. Mates were a big commitment, the last thing Derek wanted was to pressure him.

"You're not creepy. I like it when you're watching. Like I said, it means you care," Stiles said quietly, wringing out his jeans and boxers too.

Derek once again, didn't really know what to say to that. Of course he cared. He was a little worried that that was the only way Stiles knew.

"Of course I care, Stiles," he murmured.

Stiles only smiled softly.

"Well I know that _now_ ," he joked, signature lopsided grin on his face. But Derek noticed it never reached his eyes.

The guilt that gripped Derek was crushing and he decided right then, he was going to convince Stiles that he cared. So he'd never have a doubt again.

"Can you...can you pass me a towel?" he asked, staring at the broken wall tile beside him on the shower floor. He wasn't sure how to ask Stiles to leave so that he could dry himself when Stiles clearly trusted Derek enough to let _him_ stay in the room. But it wasn't because he didn't trust Stiles. Just something about the emotional rollercoaster of the past week had him needing a little privacy.

Stiles reached over to hand him one and then his eyes were back on Derek for the first time since he'd left the shower. Derek felt distinctly like he was under a microscope as the boy's squinted gaze scanned his face. Whatever he found there must have fuelled his decision, because he let go of the towel once Derek had it and excused himself from the room with a soft smile and a quiet "I'll go grab some clothes." 

How Stiles knew what Derek needed was beyond Derek. But he was silently grateful that he wouldn't have to say the words. Already the boy thought he didn't care for him.

The sound of him hobbling away to the bedroom was in Derek's ears and he suddenly felt guilty at making the boy move around so much when he was clearly injured.

He dried himself off as quick as he could and hurried through to his bedroom, half expecting Stiles to be collapsed on the floor in pain. But the boy was just sitting dressed, near the top of the bed, towelling roughly at his hair.

"How did you..." Derek trailed off, uselessly gesturing to the boy as he reached past him to grab the clothes Stiles had gotten for him.

"A little magic goes a long way," the boy chuckled quietly and that got Derek to stop.

"I thought-"

"-yeah, I know. Mellissa said no "funny business", but I just had to check," Stiles explained, bringing the towel down from his hair. The strands stuck up everywhere and Derek couldn't help the little laugh that left him as he tugged on the sweatpants under his towel, grabbing it and the one Stiles had just used to dry them. He put them on the heater in the corner of the room, smirking as Stiles muttered " _and he's tidy too, ladies, my ovaries might just explode"_ under his breath.

"What do you mean, check?" he asked as he walked back over to Stiles, forgoing the shirt Stiles had selected - he was warm again already and if he was being completely honest, he was enjoying the blush on Stiles' cheeks far too much.

"Uh- well you mentioned that...that we're mates," Stiles said quietly.

Derek walked over to sit next to him on the bed, leaning back against the headboard as he nodded in agreement. Stiles was fidgeting with his fingers restlessly, like he tended to do when he was anxious about something. Derek thought that if he was going to start letting himself look after Stiles, he might as well start now, and gently took one of the boy's hands in his. He heard Stiles' breath catch and Derek clenched his jaw before going out on a limb and rubbing little circles with his thumb over the boy's skin, hoping it would ground him.

The breath Stiles let out and the squeeze he gave to Derek's hand told Derek he'd done the right thing. He couldn't help but smile lightly, holding his hand a little firmer.

After a few seconds, Stiles continued.

"You know how I could never control my Spark before?" he explained. Derek nodded.

"Deaton had mentioned during my emissary training that if you can truly harness a spark, it can connect to anything natural. Not just something with a visible energy flow, like electricity. It can even connect to things like the wooden door or the wool in my clothes. Anyway, I noticed, after the warehouse, that the only constant in all the times I've ever been able to harness my spark...is you. I- I think you're my anchor. And I think that makes sense, if we're mates. So I had to check my theory," Stiles finished quietly. His scent was riddled with anxiety - more than the usual amount, anyway.

So Derek did the only thing he could think of and pulled Stiles gently towards him until the boy was leaning back against his chest, half in his lap, half off the bed. And then he wrapped his arms around him. Stiles shuddered softly against him and turned so his cheek was against Derek's chest, right above his heartbeat. Derek rubbed his thumb over the boy's hand again and started to pull his pain. He watched in rapture as those long eyelashes fluttered against Stiles' cheekbones and Stiles snuggled a little closer into him. He was sure from his position that Stiles would hear the stumble his heartbeat made in response, but he thankfully didn't say anything, so Derek willed away the blush on his cheeks and rested his head gently on top of Stiles'.

"You're my anchor too," he murmured and Stiles hummed in response.

"That makes sense, I guess," the boy replied quietly.

Something wasn't right. Derek wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he should try to get Stiles to talk about it, however much he hated the idea of that much pressure in a conversation.

"You gonna tell me what's on your mind?" he prompted gently, rubbing his cheek against Stiles' hair because he could. In case it all went very wrong, Derek was going to make sure he did his best with what he was given and right now, Stiles was letting him hold him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stiles echoed loftily, light tease in his voice. Derek huffed and nipped admonishingly at his ear, relishing in the yelp Stiles let out in response.

"Brat," he chuckled quietly.

"Mm, but you love it though," Stiles quipped, clearly stalling.

But Derek took advantage of the opportunity, since it seemed as good a time as any.

"Yeah, I do," he said cautiously, waiting for Stiles to catch on. He was rewarded when Stiles' beautiful amber eyes widened fractionally and a shock of colour rose on his cheeks.

"W-what?" the boy questioned quietly.

"I love you, Stiles," he said again, some old tight fist around his heart seeming to loosen a little at the admission.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting Stiles' reaction to be, but it wasn't:

"No you don't."

It wasn't even said with a scoff, like Stiles' usual knee-jerk low self-esteem. It was sad, resigned, _broken_.

"What do you me-"

"You can't love me, Derek."

Derek fell silent. He had the distinct feeling he was missing something important, and it had his metaphorical hackles rising again.

Stiles looked up at him then, and that angry and hurting look on his face was so painfully familiar to Derek that his heart almost punched itself through his chest. Stiles' eyes were the same sort of haunted Derek's own had been, in the years before he'd finally started healing. It occurred to Derek that Stiles' adamant demands that he was fine all the time were starting to crumble, and he thought now he might be able to help the boy the way he'd always wanted to. Or at least he hoped he could.

"You can't love me," Stiles repeated. "I'm- I'm a killer, I'm a m-monster, Derek. I killed h-her," he breathed, sobs starting to snatch his words until he was shaking with the force of them wracking his chest. How quickly the boy had broken only proved to Derek how close Stiles was to the edge. He hated that he hadn't been there for him. His heart felt like it was breaking.

He bundled Stiles closer to him, let the boy cry his tears out until they were little sniffles, brushing small kisses to Stiles' hair and the tips of his ears. He whispered quiet nothings in his ear until the boy's chest didn't hitch as much from jagged breathing.

"That wasn't you, Stiles. It was the thousand year old son-of-a-bitch demon that possessed you. But I know how you feel. Even if the guilt doesn't lie with you, you still feel like the blood is on your hands. I know you felt it when her life ended. But you're not alone. Having a loved one die at what feels like your hands can break you, Stiles, but it's up to you to fight it."

While he spoke, he tugged his fingers softly through the strands of Stiles' hair and made sure to keep his voice low and soothing. That was how his mother had taught him to love. He only hoped he wasn't too rusty. He hadn't exactly tried in out in the last nine years.

Stiles only shuddered against him.

"I know that. But I'm...I'm so tired of fighting Derek. I'm so tired," the boy admitted in a soft, small voice. His eyes were glazed over, like even though the demon was gone, Stiles was still fighting a war behind them. It pulled at the very core of Derek's soul and had him opening up again for the third time.

"When I was with Paige, she would light up the room. I loved her, she...was the first and last time I ever got to fully fall in love with someone before the rug was pulled out from under me. And when I had to- to end her suffering, I felt her life give out around my hands. Even though I knew that her death would have happened anyway, I was still the one to end it. But now I know better. I eventually learned that the fact that her death would have happened anyway meant something. It wasn't my fault. And yeah, it took years of healing to finally stop the nightmares and the memories, but I'm better now. I'm okay."

While he was talking, Stiles' eyes became a little less clouded, and Derek knew his voice and his arms around Stiles were helping keep the boy in the moment. After a brief moment's deliberation, he tugged his hand out of Stiles' and slipped it carefully under the brunet's shirt, making sure to watch his face for signs of discomfort. When the only reaction Stiles gave was a hitch in his breath and even clearer eyes, Derek rested his hand gently against Stiles' flank and rubbed gentle circles into his side, starting to pull his pain again. The more solid skin on skin contact seemed to work better for Stiles because he leaned back against Derek and sighed, clearly ready to listen again. So, Derek kept talking.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say here Stiles, is that Allison was not your fault, in the same way Paige wasn't mine. Yes, you and I ended up being the final points, but if it wasn't us, they still would have died. If the Nogitsune hadn't possessed you Stiles, it would have just possessed someone else. And I think we're incredibly lucky that you're as strong as you are and that you fought it all on your own while we tried to figure out a way to save you. Or so many more would have died."

At some point, Stiles had started shaking against him, and when Derek turned Stiles' face towards his, his chest ached to see the newly shed tears escape screwed shut eyes.

Derek crushed Stiles closer to his chest, leaning back only when the boy's eyes opened again and looked at him vulnerably.

"You don't know that the Nogitsune would have possessed someone else. I was weak, Derek. The only reason it was able to do so much damage was because-" Stiles started, but Derek cut him off.

"If you say it's because you're human, you're sorely mistaken, Stiles."

"Am I? Am I, Derek? You said it yourself, I was just _skinny, defenceless Stiles_ ," the brunet spat, self-loathing colouring his tone. Derek felt like he'd been slapped in the face.

"No-"

"And the Nogitsune knew it too. Any time he wasn't making me choose who died next he'd make me take a fucking field trip into a pack member's head so he could prove to me how much you all hate me and how fucking breakable I was."

"Stiles, no, you're so strong and I could never hate y-"

"Well, you should! _I hate me._ "

The admission shocked them both into silence. As Derek watched Stiles, he saw him cower into himself, his chest heaving with the force of his words. His eyes were wide and glaring at nothing, like he couldn't quite believe he'd said that out loud.

And Derek...Derek didn't know what to do. Hadn't felt so helpless since Stiles had actually been possessed. Because he knew exactly what Stiles meant. Could see his younger self in Stiles' terrified eyes. But he didn't know how to comfort him.

Still, he knew he couldn't give up. Derek had had no-one when he had first dealt with all his issues. And by the time he did have a support system, he'd grown so used to not having one that he didn't let anyone in. He couldn't let the same thing happen to Stiles.

"Look, I know it's not going to be easy. And I can't even imagine the amount of pain you went through. But I at least know some of what you're feeling. And I know that there's a way out of it, because I'm still here. I'm still struggling, but I made it out the worst of it. And if I did, then I sure as hell know you can Stiles, because you're stronger than the lot of us."

Stiles started protesting almost immediately, but Derek spoke over him. Stiles had to hear this.

"Don't even try fighting me on that Stiles. When I lost my family, it scarred me, it really did. I was broken, I didn't have anyone, and I let that rule me. I didn't leave my bed for weeks, I didn't make an effort because I just didn't want to live anymore. I felt like it should have been me."

At his words, Stiles flinched against him, and somehow Derek just knew the boy had thought exactly the same things before. His gut twisted uncomfortably.

"But here you are, right afterwards. Acting like you're okay, like nothing ever happened, if only so no-one sees how hurt you are. Stiles, you're stronger than I'll ever be. It took me years before I could even act like a semi-functioning human again."

"But it's not the same, you had it so much worse-"

"Don't do that. Don't downplay what you went through. Pain isn't a competition, baby. Everyone has their own response to different kinds of pain and it isn't fair to compare them. Anyway, it's just like you said to me. You're strong to have gotten this far Stiles, but you don't have to go it alone anymore. We've got each other now. And I'm so fucking sorry it took me this long to get my head out of my ass, but I love you Stiles. I love you, and I have loved you for a long fucking time."

\------------------------Stiles------------------------

He looked up at Derek, whose arms were still tightly wound around him, like he couldn't quite bear to let Stiles go now that he had him.

_I love you, and I have loved you for a long fucking time._

The words echoed in Stiles' head and as much as he didn't want to believe them, he thought back to Derek blushing after their time in the warehouse and how completely he had protected him. How he'd turned up before the pack. And he thought back to how scared the Alpha had been to let anyone in. And it was a little easier to believe that the reason he'd never let Stiles close to him was not because he hated him, but because he was scared of letting his guard down. Beside him, Derek continued.

"And I'm sorry if it ever seemed like I didn't care or if I h-hated you," Derek started, stumbling over his words as though he couldn't quite believe Stiles would ever think that. 

_Ohohoh, king of the overthinkers here, bud. Leaping to conclusion like Evel Knievel since 1995,_ he thought bitterly.

"But I swear to you the only reason I kept you at a distance was because of how batshit my wolf goes around you. I realised that the feelings I had for you went deeper than just my human side and it scared the shit out of me. I don't have a great track record with people that have the power to really break me," he admitted softly, and Stiles felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

"But that's not an excuse. It took me a while and I kept hiding behind the what-ifs when deep down I know without a doubt that I can trust you, and that you wouldn't hurt me," Derek said, eyes earnest and warm as they watched him. And Stiles was instantly aware of just how much Derek had grown. Therapy had done this man a world of good and as he gave Stiles a small, beautifully private smile, Stiles couldn't help but feel infinitely grateful for Derek's existence.

He leaned forward, thoughtlessly taking Derek's face in his hands and momentarily pausing when he realised Derek wouldn't push him away - because that's what he was saying. That now they both knew each other's feelings and had stopped being idiots, they could be there for each other through all the pain, and they could be together. So he lingered, savoured the feeling of Derek's stubble under his fingers and stored away the image of Derek's soft hazel eyes looking at him with trust and barely concealed hope.

He stroked his thumb across the Alpha's sharp cheekbone and chuckled fondly when Derek leaned further into his hands and closed his eyes. And Stiles couldn't help it as he followed the line of his thumb with his lips, softly tracing the skin of Derek's cheek. He instantly loved the tiny shiver the man let out against him and the blush that stained his cheeks in response.

The man's eyes darted down to Stiles' lips in a way Stiles was sure Derek had hoped was subtle and it had him giggling nervously despite himself. Derek's answering sheepish smile was breath-taking.

"Can I-?" Stiles began, leaning forward in an aborted movement towards Derek's lips.

The Alpha smiled softly and closed his eyes, apparently content to let Stiles take the lead. Stiles still couldn't get over the level of trust Derek seemed to have in him, especially given that he was an Alpha, but he supposed it only proved that what Derek had said earlier was the truth.

So he leaned it cautiously and closed the gap between them, barely suppressing a gasp when their lips finally met.

The kiss was nothing like Stiles had ever imagined it might be in his forbidden daydreams. He'd always thought it would lead off from one of Derek's rage bursts or after he slammed Stiles against a wall again, but this? This was a thousand times better.

It was soft, sweet and even chaste, like Derek knew he had could take his time and he was - moving his lips slowly against Stiles' until Stiles felt almost delirious with how perfect it was. His hand was still resting against Stiles' stomach and his thumb stroked a gentle line back and forth against Stiles' skin where he gripped him. But before Stiles could even think of taking it further, Derek was pulling back, giving a last little nip to Stiles' bottom lip before he did. Stiles almost whined, but he saw the way Derek's cheeks were still blushed and how the man was grinning at him happily and he decided the view was worth it.

Despite how he'd broken just minutes before, Stiles couldn't help his own smile mirroring Derek's and he thought for the first time that he might be able to get through all this pain. After all, Derek was right. He'd been exactly where Stiles was now, and he'd made it out. Not to mention, Derek was now _his_ and they would be there for each other. If Stiles woke from a nightmare, Derek would be there. He'd make sure Stiles wasn't taken again and he'd protect him just like Stiles would protect Derek.

So when he yawned once more, exhaustion of the day and really, the past months since the Nogitsune, catching up to him, he didn't fear falling asleep.

Because there was Derek, smiling softly at him and slowly lowering his down to the bed, tucking him under the covers. He didn't even have to ask before the man was slipping in next to him, apparently content to sleep at 4pm or whatever time the blurry alarm clock read.

Stiles smiled against Derek's bare shoulder when the man turned and pulled Stiles towards him and then he wriggled around until his back was against that warm, firm chest. It felt good. Safe.

He said as much to Derek and was rewarded by a quiet, pleased chuckle and a soft kiss pressed to the back of his neck.

"Sleep, Stiles," the man murmured softly, slumber already roughening his voice.

Stiles smiled, content, and closed his eyes.

For once, he had no nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew that's done!
> 
> leave kudos and comments please! I'd love to hear from ya :)
> 
> Come chat on my Tumblr: firebugs-and-poetry


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